The Dead and The Living

The Dead and The Living ©

by

Michael Casey

I first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said not

to worry as the dead are the same as the living , only the laughter

has left them , the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has

been lifted from their shoulders , and their voice has vanished to

eternity .

In paradise the sparkle will return for it is the twinkle of the

stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and

the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .

I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living ,

though I find the deceased are always more polite . My father also

had a few words to say about the living .

He said that the living are only the caretakers of the soul , yet

they think their existance is everything , that they know everything

because they experience many things with their senses .

What the living don't acknowledge is that their time is short and

when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls continue without

them , without their strong , without their weak , without their

beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only

that it is a better place .

Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free

THE BEGINNING

**************

I wrote this poem in November 1987 on a Sunday on a bus while going to work at StatsMR  later part of ACNielsen, I had started to write my first book,
as Pad Webb had suggested

I wanted to have the Poet and Undertaker say something about his role
this comes from The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
which I was going to call A Nation of Shopkeepers but I thought nobody
would know their History, so I chose the occupations on the street.

this poem I hope brings comfort to people, at this time especially.....

Plain English

Plain English (c)

By

Michael Casey

So I keep on reading rubbish, and I keep on writing rubbish I hear you say, why don't you go away and burn ants with a magnifying glass just as I did in the 1960s. You can try this at home, as all the Buddhists complain, see simple pleasures have changed in 50 years. You can discuss this amongst yourselves, you have fly zappers in your stores, so who is the more cruel?

Times change and language changes too, though good old Anglo Saxon remains the same, ask Lenny Bruce if you don't believe me. Or just go Bla a Bla or Do a Do, or Soo a Soo or even Kapo a Kapo. You are so disgusting, how is that even physically possible? You'll send me a link to your Utube channel. Don't bother, I'll just wear snorkling gear and jump from the top of the wardrobe to, well mind your own business, what people do in the privacy of their own homes should stay there. Like What Happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Vegas is the name of our local fish and chip shop by the way. They dye the chips orange, he's a very nice man, he always gives me an extra shake of salt. If he knew that the Heart ward bans salt, then he'd stop, but I don't want to crush him.

Now what has this got to do with the price of a kebab, or a bag of chips for that matter? I don't know either, but I have to give you all a chance to warm up. So now that you are sitting comfortably then I'll begin, and you Pete and the back, stop wiping snot on the keyboard, are you that bored already? Now where was I? I read the newspapers every day, though with Covid19 I'm rationing myself a bit, otherwise it would be overwhelming. I would encourage you all to do the same. Major Mental Health Problems will arise after we all get out of Lockdown, IF we don't all think positive. Distract and Divert our Souls away from the Tsunami of trouble.

So read the Press but don't read all your DM, or Guardian or DT or whatever you read. Don't watch 10 hours of news on tv either. I confess I have been a life long News Addict, 50 years worth. I also read the USA news mainly in bed with Tinnitus my Roman slave. The thing is you must be selective, you must have a plan, otherwise I'm BORED, rears it's ugly head. It seems to me people have short attention spans nowadays, and what to be entertained. They don't have enough in their head already to keep them happy.

Maybe only children will be better at adapting to the Covid19 world, not just children themselves but grown ups who were only children. As they had to make up their own entertainment, or cruel kids who burn ants with magnifying glasses. Or poor kids, or kids with IMAGINATION, I used to have a paper clip and I traced up and down a brick wall, the mortar was the road, and the paper clip was a car for the Leprechans. Simple pleasures for me and Derek McKenna in the 1960s. Nowadays if the battery goes kids are marooned without any way of entertaining themselves. Which is so very sad.

Dirk Bogarde in his book tells of the look in the window challenge, you look in the shop window for a minute, then turn your back and try to remember what was there. Can you paint a picture? You can play this at home too. It's a way of exercising you observation skills. Dirk Bogarde was a Photographic Interpreter in WWII. It's a simple game, very simple, but it creates skills and stengths, and it costs nothing, nothing at all, so anybody can do it or adapt to your surroundings.

While you are at home, you can all teach yourself to give a speech. Useful in all areas of your life. And not just for the obnoctious wanna bes in the media, a smile and a figure, male or female does not make a good reporter. So here's how you learn. Have 5 objects in front of you, or look out the window and pick 5 objects. Then you take turns to speak for 60 seconds, like Just a Minute on the Radio. But without any interruptions. Then you give/get constructive advice. So 5 objects, 5 sixty second talks. Followed by constructive advice. Then you move on to another 5 objects, but you increase the talk time. This is the basic structure.

You can give yourselves prep time to make notes before you talk. So you have the idea. The “exam” the next day is being able to stand up and talk for 15minutes, from your notes. And yes I stood up and spoke for 30 mins about my Paris misadventures, this was Maundy Thursday 1998. Carole with an E nearly wet herself because she didn't know what I was going to say next. The next day I went to Czech and ended up talking to Jana's English class, I talked without notes for 90 minutes. So the course worked. Being able to write is one skill, but being able to talk is another. Being able to read a script is a different skill too, hard for me as I like free flow, so even though I've written a piece I need to learn/practice delivering it. As I am channeling myself, I bet you never thought of that, actors really do act after all. Go to my typepad and as I recorded more the delivery got better, though they were recorded 5 years ago I think. And then recording 5 in a day was so tiring. I'm not a machine.

As usual I was going to follow one path but I've gone another way, however IF you all follow my simple instructions, all of you, yes all of you should be able talk. You can then win the heart of that girl or boy or any which way, whom you wanted so much. Now you have the skills to win, beauty will fade, but laughter lasts forever, so if you can make your love laugh, she/he will chose you. And then everybody will assume you are rich, and so you are, rich in spirit.

What I was going to speak about was, use plain English, otherwise readers will say he's up his own backside, as if we give a monkeys, don't they know there is a war on, a Covid19 war. And yes you can draw cartoons of Covid19 as an ant, with you burning them with magnifying glasses, well metaphorically speaking.

So that's it for today, over 1100 words, and yes you can learn to write too, though I spent 20 years listening to BBC Radio4, quality speech radio before I ever picked up a pen. It's up to you, you can do whatever you want to do, it's up to you. I just wish John Denver would stop singing that so loudly, maybe I should change my ring tone?

Worth More than Vodka a Lech, Boris and Gregorgi story

Worth more than Vodka ©

By

Michael Casey

Now some things are worth more than Gold, like friendship, or a gun if you are a hunter, but to be worth more than Gold? For Lech, Boris and Gregorgi for anything to be worth more than Vodka? They were visiting me the other day, they said it was just to see if I was looking after Totoro the cat properly. They had a new still in Warley Woods, so to kill to birds with one stone they popped by. Their friend at NASA who knew Esther’s son the satellite guy, he’d started to send them texts with news from the stills. Some billion dollar technology, being used to make sure the Vodka was just right. Don’t ask me how, ask that nice lady Dr who created the Smiley image of a Black Hole. Only somebody as bright as her could explain, I cannot, the only black hole I know I’m sitting on.

So the boys stocked up my cupboards with enough soup and beans to last a siege, then whistling Tchaikovsky they were gone. They were gone until darkness fell, they were panting, and Lech had something under his sheepskin. It was a baby with the umbilical still attached. Quick ring a doctor, he almost looked scared. I reached for the phone, but at that very moment Nurse Vicky came in for a cup of tea. Vicky was a retired midwife, sometimes God sends you things. Put him back under your coat she ordered. Then she grabbed tin foil from the kitchen and a pair of my old winter long johns. Then she wrapped the baby and ordered Lech to resume his warming.

I’ll call the ambulance now, the child looks ok, but what about the mother, she could be bleeding to death somewhere. Where did you find the baby? In the woods. So the mother could be in danger? Asked Lech, Boris and Gregorgi their Slav sense of family coming to the fore. We have to go, to look for the mother. They headed for the door, Vicky interrupted, the mother could be anywhere, but you forgot one thing. Give me the baby now. So Lech carefully passed the baby to Vicky who then it against her own enormous bosoms, and smothered the newborn in love and warmth.

The blue flashing light of the ambulance flashed outside, the boys disappeared over my back garden fence. This is more important than any vodka, we must find the mother. The warmth from the still had saved the baby, but now the mother must be found, the mother must be found. Their NASA friend sent texts but they had never replied, that was the deal. But now in their Black Hole of worry for the mother, they just had to. But what message should they send, could they send?

Three Kings looking for Mary. He’d understand he was clever. So they texted it. Three Kings looking for Mary. The baby was safe and warm at City Hospital, what Vicky had forgotten was more than most knew. The baby was called Michael, she didn’t tell me, but as it was a boy and it was my house, so it was small Michael. The Police said the mother could be lost in the woods, but was probably long gone, so no search till daylight, just in case.

For the boys, NOW means NOW, they were all fathers, what if it were one of their daughters? They had to look, they had to look. They were Slavs, a daughter in trouble had to be loved, had to be loved. At Nasa a message to a restricted number flags up big time. All the Spy agencies were on the case. And what did Three Kings looking for Mary mean?

Their friend knew immediately, it’s my 3 friends from school back in the Homeland where Russia/Poland and Ukraine make love on the map. They are looking for a mother obviously. Who is Mary then? Mary was a new mother, so they are looking for a new mother. But why look for a new mother? Probably because because they found her baby. It’s an abandoned baby. It must be that. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi knew he was clever, he did work for Nasa after all.

Lech’s phone rang, it was Nasa. Could their friend help find the mother. Their friend looked at array of top Nasa and spy agency people looking at him. Well I left the East to work here, prove to me you have a heart. The man in the suit took out his phone and showed a picture of a new born. This is my first granddaughter she was born yesterday in England. The man in the suit said two words. DO IT!

And that is how billion dollar satellites were used to find Mary and help the Three Kings bring her offerings. As the woods were dark and only heat would show up in space the new super dupper satellite was tested. It spotted the bulk of the boys easily. A search area and grid pattern was assigned and the satellites put to work. The girl from the Black Hole discovery teams poked her head around the corner, what’s going on. They told her, so she found a space and opened her laptop and did some space magic.

A few foxes in woods were spotted and a few stray birds flying past. But what if “Mary” the mother had fallen, her signature wood be smaller. The lady Dr worked away at her laptop. Lech Boris and Gregorgi were hunting frantically but not very successfully. They found a bloody bag and waved to space then phoned in the news. This was added to the plot. This went on for two hours the woods were so big after all. Saint Jude help us screamed Lech and Boris with Gregorgi echoing their prayers.

In the Space Station the Russian crew told the rest what was going on, they all said Saint Jude’s prayer. Friends in higher places were needed. Then not one, two, three or four, but five sparks of life and light came up from Space, including the Space Station. Saint Jude does not mess about.

The Black Hole Dr Lady jumped up, there she pointed at the wall size screen. In Polish/Russian and Ukrainian the Nasa people and Spooks screamed instructions to Lech, Boris and Gregorgi. The Three Kings have found Mary flashed all over the world’s satellites. The old joke used to be why did the Americans get to the Moon first, they had more German scientists than the Russians. But now, but now the Three Kings from the East had found Mary lost in the woods.

The girl really did need medical attention, and her name really was Mary. The Spy people had a helicopter on standby and Lech, Boris and Gregorgi waved and it descended into the black hole and took her back to the light. But what about their still, it would be lost, and the Police would be nosey etc. GCHQ in England knew what was going on, that’s their job, Prince William will tell you that if ever you meet him by the coffee machine. As luck would have it the new head of GCHQ was call Havis McTavish from a very long line of Scottish Whisky makers. Do you think he’d let anybody know what had happened the night before. I should cocoa, I repeat I should cocoa. GCHQ slapped a D notice with a 30 year rule on everything.

Nobody or nothing would ever know what happened. A man had found a baby and given it to Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham,the one in England. His dear friend Vicky a midwife had taken it to hospital. Then another man out walking his dog had found the mother. Full Stop, Period as the Americans say. Or as Intelligence sources say. MIND YOU OWN BUSINESS.

There is a p.s. to this story. The man in the suit came to England to see his new grandchild and obviously he’s so high up he gets Police escort. The Police handed him, a brown paper bag with a 2 litre bottle of fresh Vodka in it. Tied to the bottle on a luggage label was written in Polish/Ukrainian and Russian, with love from The Three Kings and baby Michael. I heard that Havis McTavis from GCHQ also got one, Prince William told me at the coffee machine, he delivered it personally.

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

chat 31 march 2020

chat 31 March 2020

well I will get around to writing something new, I had  fun with the AI story

the style is similar to the monologue style of a famous comedian

And NO I don't copy anybody, it's all osmosis, just like Paul McCartney and

Jane Asher, I was watching a documentary last night, how influences and so

forth educated Paul, meanwhile John was doing too much acid, according to the

 Documentary.  So Paul advanced outwardly while John was on an inner journey.

My own view is I don't need any substances, some people think I'm weird

enough already, IMAGINATION is all you need, not substances. Just say NO.

So this mornings USA,Algeria,Moldova, Korea, France and UK are reading me

over on Wordpress, and the usual suspects here on Blogger.

I think The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker resonates because it's about 

ordinary people, so any person anywhere can say that's just like X Y or Z in

whatever the reader lives in. A lot of the stories within in the 600 page novel are

true too. My dad really did save the Undertaker's son's life, hence that entered as

material for the book. When my dad finally died after his 5.5 years extra time,

the Undertaker made my dad look 10 years younger in death, as a thank you for

saving his life. But a writer should never reveal his sources, just like a journalist,

or a magician. The things Laura Kuenssberg can do with pigeons you just would

not believe, that's how she gets the scoops first, pigeon post.

So come back later and I may have something new for you, but do tell everybody in  your address book where to find 2000 stories and a full length novel in Translation, here and on my Wordpress. As well as 200 + Audio.

Though you could just binge watch Pirates of the Caribbean on Disney+ as somebody in our household has, one a day, not all 5 in one day.

Though the future college has sent my small daughter a reading list for her A Levels, so that will keep her busy. I'm trying to persuade her to do an EPQ, over the long school layoff, this is a 20 page essay, 6000 words. Then its done and dusted before you even start your A levels. So if any grown ups are reading this why not persuade your own kids. A page a week, and it's done. I could do one in 3 days or so myself, as its serious stuff.

Another idea for you all is Dancing on Doorsteps, so you have a street party while still on your doorstep.

Ok, its dinner time, chorizo and cheese microwaved in a bread sandwich, which used to be my night shift dinner at 4am for over a decade, though ham not chorizo was the thing if I remember rightly. If you have never worked a night shift I'll just say, AVOID IT. I think I did 14 years worth, up to 12 hours a night, on fast rotation.

Ok that's it, I'll post another Lech, Boris and Gregorgi story  to keep you all going.

Wave It, Don't Shake it, I'll leave that with you...

It just has to be plain English, that'll be tomorrow's story

It just has to be plain English, that'll be tomorrow's story

As I DETEST posey people using stupid long words trying to impress

IT's all about COMMUNICATION

That's one reason I have far flung readers, in 80 countries

Because I try and make it easy and FUN

I'll never be famous, and frankly I wouldn't want that life

I'm happy to be the Fool on the Hill

And the rest you know, if you've read some of my stuff already

So go read LinkedIN profile which is on the sites and  in the morning

I may follow that  Format to write about Plain English

Or should I say It has been an honour to have you read my words

and indulge me with your time and  attention.

Or in plain English get to the bar fast and buy me a Stella Artois before

the bar closes, for sharing a Pint or even buying somebody a drink

is all the praise you'll ever need.

Ok, enough I need to sleep now.  Hope you all liked the Ai piece, AI that is,

which by the way is the name of one of our former Japanese neighbours.

AI and Me

AI and Me

By

Michael Casey

Well as I said a day or was it two ago, I’d write about AI reading me. I’ve tried Twitter, but I prefer to tell a story and Twitter is just too short, so I have stopped using it after a one month test. I remain on Blogger and Wordpress, unless Trump decides he doesn’t like me. How such a dullard, if I quote his BFF, Kim in North Korea, got to abuse power will be for History books, in November, please God.

Now AI means Artificial Intelligence, and once taught it will work harder and faster than any Human. They have set it to work looking for cures for loads of things. It is a “machine” that does not tire, so generations in the Future will be put out of work because of it, Automation will Ruin the World, is what my dad said 30 or even 40 years ago. My uncle Willie was a Ploughman, and look what happened to them, a Tractor replaced them. AI is a brain that does the boring stuff, but far far faster than us.

Science Fiction teaches us about the Future, go back 100 or 150 years to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, and to our beloved Star Trek 50 + years ago. Now what was spoke of has arrived. So a Living Wage will be the Future, what else are you going to do with all the underemployed people, can they all just become Politicians?

So everybody blogs, or tweets. I write or rather talk to you and then post it. I would never call myself a blogger, I am a writer. Or is that pretentious? Go dig out “Pretentious Writers Strike Again” a piece from a few years ago. So getting to the point, if ever there is one, people stumble over me. Perhaps they think I am a lifestyle guru, as if I have a life, or any style, and as for guru, isn’t that some obscure medical condition, doctor doctor I have the gurus, just take 1000 selfies a day and you will feel so much better. But will I be cured? No but perhaps you’ll get a slot on tv, like Guru Murphy on Channel Four, the perfume correspondent.

So companies search the Web and print out their mentions, which does not hurt so long as you are careful. Then then cut and paste their mentions into a file and share it. Cutting and Pasting Mentions then Filing them, sounds outrageous to me, you should only file your nails. Everybody wants to have cuttings especially gardeners, though Chancy Gardinier did become President pick, go watch Being There if you want clarification, which sounds like an Indy Band but is not.

Now AI, this is tasked to seek out and find new life forms and boldly go where no one has gone before, but watch out for the ClingONs on the starboard bow, or you may need to change your underpants. That’s why AI does it, its a dirty job but AI will do anything if you just ask and give it a bag of iron filing, which is like a Line of White, but for machines.

So as you know I am a creature, a creature or habit, I could hear you snickering, as you ate your chocolate bar. So I spotted AI something was the source, how somebody found me. I thought they put my photo with a banana on my head, plus my web address on HP sauce bottles. It comes from Aston here in Birmingham, or it used to anyway. So AI detective agency tracked me down, it was every so soft and cuddly ad so warm too. They do all the leg work, shaved of course, so they can run so much faster, less drag, which is a disappointment, if anybody is chasing me, it would be so much more fun if they were in drag. Danny la Rue where are you?

So AI looks and finds me, the results are tabulated, I do hope they dissolve in water. Then they are presented to important people who are so important somebody else, that’s AI, does the Googleing for them. Then the Leaders have less paper to look at, so they can say. So this is Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England. Why isn’t he wearing shades in every photo, but he does have a banana on his head. AI says nothing, it is licking its lips and sucking on its bag of iron filings. It does not give explanations, it just finds the quarry, and if you want to throw the quarry into a quarry afterwards that’s up to you.   

So I’ve been tracked down my a “machine” an AI with a habit, iron filings in cyberspace. Is it my magnetic attraction, why are all the iron filings lined up, or are they just happy to see me. Perhaps I should call the AI, May West. Now it’s 5pm so I’ll wipe Boris’ nose, he has to talk to the Country now, at least he has no Election to win, if I were USA Media I’d switch the feed off after 30 mins, or give equal time to the Nancys  or whatever the other lot are called.

AI stop doing that, and leave my pot scourer alone, your can’t have any more, take my  pot scourer out of your mouth, or whatever it is. AI is the future, it Marks my Words.

AI reading me now, the honour of it

AI reading me now, the honour of it

give the robot, which is a Czech word, a decent book

or some iron filings to suck on

As I've spotted that I may elaborate into a story

Yes, I'm as simple as that when it comes to ideas

You should all have all my recordings to date as I've copied

them from my typepad to Blogger and Wordpress

Though the link should take you back to Typepad

and you just click to HEAR me READ in  my posh Birmingham accent

12 hours worth of me, you will want to self isolate after hearing my voice

for so long.

As I've said many times, there are 2000+ stories and multiple Translations

scattered everywhere. On Wordpress after many posts are a full selection

of Translations in many Languages

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/

If you want my Original English, and yes I see the double meaning, I do write

this stuff after all, it's not AI, then you can BUY it here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Though I doubt anybody will, as Internet is FREE

so spare a thought for me.